Friday, August 25, 2017

The U.S.S. Benevolence was a full-sized hospital at sea. She had 802 beds, many operating rooms, and the most up-to-date X-ray and lab equipment upon her completion in May, 1945.

She sailed to the Pacific, serving in the closing months of World War II. The casualties of the island-hopping strategy were terrible, and she took care of many as the allies closed in on the Japanese home islands.

At the Japanese surrender she was anchored in Tokyo bay, hidden behind the American and British battleships. Although hospitals don't get the glory that fighting ships do, they're still an indispensable part of any naval force.

After the big ships were gone, the Benevolence got down to work. 1,520 allied prisoners-of-war were released to her care, with her crew nursing them back to health so they could go home. She stayed in Japan until late November, 1945, doing this vital work.

The next month she sailed for San Francisco, bringing those too wounded to leave their beds back to the U.S. for further care. She spent early 1946 running back-and-forth between there and Pearl Harbor, transporting more injured home as they were brought in.

Later that year the atomic bomb testing was planned for Bikini atoll, and the Benevolence was selected to provide medical care for the operation. She served in this capacity through the entire project, and was then sent to provide hospital services in Tsingtau, China, anchoring there in October, 1946.

In 1947 she returned home and went into reserve, but was recommissioned and modernized in 1950 to serve in the Korean war.

On August 25, 1950, she was running sea trials off San Francisco before being sent overseas. She was 4 miles west of the Golden Gate Bridge, returning to harbor in a heavy fog.

A freighter, the S.S. Mary Luckenbach, was also blundering through the haze that afternoon, and just after 5:00 the two collided.

The Luckenbach was the less damaged, and anchored nearby to assess what had happened. Due to the fog her crew were initially unaware that the Benevolence was sinking rapidly, but as distress signals came in they manned their own lifeboats to go help. They saved 85 lives in the growing darkness.

The Benevolence was completely gone in just 15-20 minutes.

A makeshift rescue armada raced to the scene as night fell. Coast Guard ships, fishing boats, tugboats, pleasure craft, and merchant ships slowly moving through the murk, listening for voices, shining searchlights, and sending their own lifeboats back and forth to get swimmers. With the tide going out some survivors were miraculously found 12 miles west of the sinking, up to 6 hours later. One was floating on a wooden box of blood plasma.

As they returned to port almost every ambulance in the bay area was on the scene, taking them to hospitals and returning for more.

When it was all over 505 had survived and 23 were lost.

Both captains were faulted for excessive speed in the fog. The new radar technology on the Benevolence had somehow not seen the Luckenbach, and the Luckenbach's own set was malfunctioning and was turned off at the time.

When the sun came up and the fog cleared the next morning, the ocean off Golden Gate had an eerie sight: The 71 foot-wide Benevolence, lying on her side in 75 feet of water, with her red cross insignia clearly visible beneath the waves.

The navy surveyed the wreck for several months before deciding she was beyond salvage. She couldn't be left in the center of a busy shipping lane indefinitely, either.

In late 1951 the Benevolence was completely destroyed in a series of 3 controlled explosions to clear the area.

To this day she remains sadly forgotten, with no memorial to remember those lost that afternoon.

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

“Train wreck,” for the uninitiated, is medical slang for a patient with EVERYTHING wrong.

Example:
“Mr. Smith in the ICU, room 17, is a train wreck. He has metastatic
cancer and advanced renal disease. He was getting dialysis yesterday when he suffered a heart attack
and then went into respiratory failure. He’s on a ventilator now, and
has developed sepsis.”

Anyway

One day back in residency we were doing our usual morning rounds, presenting cases to the attending. My friend Zack was telling him about a guy he'd admitted the previous night.

Zack: “Okay, the next one, in ICU room 7, is a train wreck. He…”

Dr. Proper: “NEVER SAY THINGS LIKE THAT! Patients are people, and I don’t
want to hear slang! Present the case to me in medical terms."

Zack: “I'm sorry, but I mean…"

Dr. Proper: “STOP! Let’s try this again. Why is the man in room 7 in the hospital?”

Thursday, August 17, 2017

I was doing night admissions, and one was an elderly lady who'd come in for a hip fracture. The ER doctor told me the ortho surgery resident had already seen her, but there was nothing in the chart to tell me what the plans were.

So I called the ortho resident to touch base.

Dr. Dudebro: "Ortho, returning a page."

Me: "Hey, I'm the medicine resident admitting Mrs. Hip. You evaluated her in ER a few minutes ago?"

Dr. Dudebro: "Oh yeah, with a broken hip! What's up?"

Me: "What's the plan for her?"

Dr. Dudebro: "Uh...she needs surgery."

Me: "Right, but what's your plan? When are you planning to take her?"

Dr. Dudebro: "Uh...I don't know. She needs surgery."

Me: "Okay, but she's on Coumadin and is therapeutic. Are you taking her to OR tonight, and I need to reverse her ASAP? Or is this less urgent, and I can just give her vitamin K and manage her pain until you're ready for her?"

Friday, August 11, 2017

The unidentified ursid, who's still on the loose, smashed a window and climbed in. From there it released the parking brake and went rolling down the street.

During its brief ride the bear drove over some utility boxes before finally going into a yard and hitting a mailbox. The homeowner, Mr. Ron Cornelius, was woken by the noise and called police. When asked about the early hour, Mr. Cornelius said "Usually, I don’t get up at 5 o’clock unless there is a bear driving a car down the street."

Apparently unhappy about its short ride, the bear destroyed the interior of the vehicle. It pulled the steering wheel off the shaft, ripped the radio out, and broke the back window.

Originally it was thought to have been the work of human vandals, but the bear's involvement was confirmed by the extensive degree of damage wrought and, more importantly, a large pile of bear shit that had been left inside the car.

So there you have it: Bears do shit in the woods, but in a pinch will use a Subaru.

Welcome to my whining!

This blog is entirely for entertainment purposes. All posts about patients may be fictional, or be my experience, or were submitted by a reader, or any combination of the above. Factual statements may or may not be accurate.

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